Mea Culpa
by Darth Furby
Summary: [Chapter seven up] Snape has gone missing from Hogwarts, out on his mission. In his absence, Dumbledore takes on his potion master duties; Draco suffers through another potions class with Lucinda, during which his cauldron does more than just talk.
1. Introduction

I have come to the conclusion that an introductory author's note is needed on this story, being what it is. This is for several reasons, which will be addressed throughout this little introduction.

One of these reasons, is that I want to clarify a few things about this story, those things being time frame, characters, etc. This story takes place during Harry's sixth year, but is told from Draco's perspective and starts midway through the school year, during the Christmas holiday. That isn't to say that I don't intend to tell Harry's side at some point in the future, but that will be a separate story. Also, there are some original characters in this story, but they by no means make this story a mary-sue, as you or I would be hard pressed to find anyone who might actually resemble these characters. There are three OC's to be exact, and I have profiles for them if anyone is interested. I will refrain from posting these profiles or a link to them here because I feel that some of the information given in them would be considered spoilers, as some of it has yet to be addressed in the story itself.

Another reason I am writing this note is to declare my absolute and complete opinions towards those reading this. I know there are quite a few people keeping up with this story, as I have support services which supply me with a hit counter. I also know that several people have me on author alert, and I'm positive they aren't reading my Digimon fanfiction. I'd really, really appreciate someone besides Aeri reviewing this story, and if I have to threaten a hold on future updates it to achieve this, then so be it.

Lastly, I'd just like to be able to give this story a more in depth summary. Thus is the following:

During his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco is forced to stay at school over the Christmas holiday. Of course, this story has a much longer time frame than just two weeks- the story only begins during the holiday, when Draco meets two fifth year girls he'd never noticed before, even though they, too, are Slytherins. It is after the holiday, however, that he discovers the links that are between himself and them; he learns of blood contracts- and that his family is under one. He begins to understand just how little control he has over his own life, and that, well, sometimes agreements must be honored even when the agreement itself is less than honorable. He also learns that nothing is ever quite what it appears to be. And what has Professor Snape to do with all this? All Draco knows, and will know in the time span of this story is that no one but Severus Snape knows exactly where Snape's loyalties lie.


	2. In Limine

[***Mea Culpa is Latin for "My mistake". FFN refuses to let me use any form of punctuation or separation between the Latin and its English translation in the title, So I'm just putting the Latin in now; I wanted to clarify this for any of you who might have been confused, but don't know to push the review button.***]  
  
A/N: Hey, I'm not dead! o_O; I was having trouble with this bugger for awhile, that's all. First I lost part of what was going to be the second chapter, but then I read OotP and decided to just get rid of that part. Anyways, I am back, and with a revamped (and slightly longer) version of the first chapter of this lovely story. I promise things *will* get better. And no, this is *not* a mary-sue. So help me God, if anyone tells me it is, I shall turn upon you the demons of fanfiction hell. ô_O! There are original characters in this though, two females and a male who won't be introduced for awhile. The girls are pretty much what happened when *certain* people thought it would be fun to take all the evilness and fangirlness from our minds and make characters of such material. If you hate any form of bashing of any character, just don't read this, since I will probably end up 'bashing' in someway, shape, or form every character that comes into this, except for maybe Snape, because I'm not sure its possible to unintentionally bash him. Weird, I know, but true. ô_O Anyways, I'll end this little note with a disclaimer and an actual summary.  
  
Summary: Draco is forced to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday during his sixth year, and learns just how tightly bloodlines can tie people down, even before they're born. When he is given the choice to rebel against the blood and family tying him down, he refuses. He won't learn that this was a mistake until it is too late to change not only his own fate, but the fate of others as well.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters I use in this story except my own. J.K. Rowling owns, and uses to her own twisted ends, the Harry Potter universe. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter One: In Limine (On the Threshold)  
  
Draco didn't go home for the Christmas holiday that year. It had been decided that it wouldn't be possible to observe the Christmas holiday with all that was happening. He had felt the urge to protest, but ended up doing nothing to satiate it, mostly because he knew just how pointless that would be. So he now found himself trapped in Hogwarts, feeling very annoyed with his current fate. He didn't even have anyone to speak of his plight with; Crabbe and Goyle had happily gone home and left him without so much as blinking. Now he had little to do but study (out of the question) and skulk around the hallways.  
  
And even that he was unable to do in peace. He had been wandering around for quite some time when he noticed two first year females (well they looked that way to him) following him while turning a corner. He swung around to face them.  
  
"Do you mind?"  
  
The two girls turned red at the realization of being noticed. They nodded hastily, and clumsily skittered away, giggling and talking rapidly. He glared in the direction they had gone until he could no longer see them before turning his mind back to his brooding. After this interruption, he checked his watch and noticed it was nearing lunchtime. Even though he had no appetite, he decided to go down to the Great Hall anyways, mostly to keep up appearances.  
  
When he got there, he found the Great Hall as empty as it had been for every meal during the previous week of the holiday. The number of tables had been cut down to two; one for faculty and one for students. Most of the teachers seemed to be skipping out on lunch, but the student table was occupied by 6 or 7 groups of students, mostly from the other houses. He noticed that most of the groups had lowered their voices significantly when they saw him come in. He scanned the table for a spot that wasn't too close to any of the whispering groups, and found that the only way to avoid them was to sit almost directly across from Harry Potter, who seemed to be the only student there who wasn't part of a group.  
  
He resigned himself to this fate, and silently seated himself two seats down and across the table from Harry, who looked up from his food to give him a look of disapproval. Draco ignored him. Harry took this as a cue to do the same.  
  
After the groups closest to them left, Harry turned his attention back to Draco. Draco tried to ignore him; he quickly found it difficult to eat when someone's eyeballs were trying to burn a hole in your head. He gave up of ignoring Harry and turned his eyes up from his food to glare at the other boy.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm just wondering why you're still here." Draco couldn't tell if it was rude, or simply an innocent question. He decided it was rude.  
  
"What do you care?"  
  
"Its just strange that you, of all people, are still here," Draco saw something he thought was a smirk flash across Harry's face, but Harry continued before the expression could take hold. "I guess your mum decided Christmas just wouldn't be the same with dear old dad in prison, eh?"  
  
"Something like that," Draco paused, trying to think of a good retort; his mind just wasn't in form that day. "But having a father in prison is better than having one that's dead, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Harry looked quite angry at hearing Draco say that. He quickly regained his composure and replied. "I'd rather have a father who died for what he cared about than a father who's in jail because he doesn't care about anything but gaining power."  
  
Harry stood up as he spoke, leaving the table as he finished. Draco wasn't sure how to compute what he'd said, so he simply dismissed it. He finished his meal, not really thinking about anything in particular.  
  
He left the Great Hall shortly after Harry did, still feeling a bit apathetic. He began walking back to the Slytherin dormitories, deciding it was a good time to study. When he stepped into the Slytherin common room, however, studying quickly left his mind.  
  
Two girls were sitting near the fire, throwing unidentified objects into the flames before them. They stopped when Draco came in, looking across the room at him, odd expressions on their faces. Draco recognized them as the two girls who had been following him before he went to lunch. They smiled when they saw that he recognized them. He quickly averted his gaze, and his attention, in an attempt to get to his dorm without having to deal with them. They seemed to know he would try to ignore them, and got up to block his path.  
  
"Where are you going in such a hurry, handsome?"  
  
"I- ah," he was lost for what to say. "Handsome?"  
  
She nodded, batting her eyelashes at him. He glared at her, then found the words he wanted to say. "Look, I've got no time for some stupid first year with a crush. Bugger off."  
  
"Fifth year," she raised her eyebrows in response to his assumption. "And what crush?"  
  
"You called me Handsome. I classify that under what stupid girls say when they have a crush," he looked at her as if she was crazy to not make that connection.  
  
"Well," she sent him a fake innocent look. "I guess wanting to bed you can count as a crush, if you want."  
  
He stared at her. Before he could say anything, the second girl came over, giggling madly.  
  
"Honestly, Lucinda," she smacked the other girl on the back of the head. "Do you ever think with your brain?"  
  
"At least I don't imply dirty things about my friends," Lucinda stuck her tongue out at her.  
  
"Hey, he's getting away!"  
  
Draco had taken advantage of the distraction, and had slipped away from them. No sooner had he gotten to the stairs that lead up to his dormitory, then the two girls had caught up with him.  
  
Ten minutes later he was bound to one of the armchairs by the fire by a thin green thread which was flowing from Lucinda's wand.  
  
"Why must you insist on inconveniencing me?"  
  
The two girls looked at each other, pondering his question.  
  
"Because we can," they said together, nodding to one another.  
  
Draco hung his head in defeat, deciding that his best chance to live through this was to let them so whatever it was they wanted. As he considered the odds, Lucinda decided to sit on his lap.  
  
He screamed, which caused her to fall.  
  
"Ow," she glared at him. "What was that for?"  
  
"I don't take well to strange creatures sitting on me."  
  
Lucinda continued to glare at him, and the other girl laughed at them both.  
  
"Never seen you get rejected quite like that before, Lucinda."  
  
"Shut up, Constance."  
  
Constance ignored Lucinda, walking over to the chair Draco was trapped in.  
  
"Scary, isn't she?" She smiled oddly.  
  
"You're both absolutely terrifying."  
  
She smacked him around the head. "Better scary than just plain mean."  
  
"Oh I'm mean?" He glared at her in disbelief. "But you strapping me to this chair isn't?"  
  
"No, not really," Constance replied, matter-of-factly.  
  
"It depends on what we do to you while you're tied to the chair," Lucinda added, batting her eyelashes at him again.  
  
Draco's glare turned into a shocked grimace. Before he had a chance to worry about what to say in return, a deeply annoyed looking Severus Snape slid through the stone doorway, into the common room. He looked at each of them in turn, his annoyance quite obviously growing as his eyes passed over each of them. Lucinda batted her eyelashes at him, and Constance glared at her. Draco simply shot him a pleading sort of look as the professor's eyes moved over him.  
  
"I wouldn't suppose any of you could fathom why I might be about to take fifteen points away from each of you, would you?"  
  
"Fi- fifteen?" Lucinda looked at him innocently.  
  
"Yes, child, fifteen. Have you any idea how much it incenses me to have to deal with this sort of spectacle when I have serious business I must attend to?"  
  
"Spectacle?" Constance thought about it for a moment. "I thought we were just having a little fun."  
  
"A little fun to you is chaos to the rest of the world, or have you not grasped that yet, child?"  
  
"Well," Constance glanced at Lucinda, who shrugged. "I guess that would explain the staring."  
  
Draco looked at them as if they were the stupidest creatures alive, which was precisely what he thought of them at that moment. Snape gave him a very sharp, sarcastic look.  
  
"You, Mr. Malfoy, have little room to talk yourself, as far as this little spectacle."  
  
Draco immediately turned his attention from the girls to Snape. "Eh-?"  
  
"I'm quite certain, Mr. Malfoy, that letting two fifth years girls take advantage of you is not something I would be proud of if I were you."  
  
Draco hung his head in shame. "I suppose it wouldn't be, professor."  
  
"Although, seeing that they had to use a restricted spell to contain you, maybe you aren't as weak as this situation causes me to think," Snape turned back to the girls before continuing. "I think a detention may be in order for you two, for using such a spell."  
  
Lucinda and Constance looked quite guilty; Lucinda batted her eyelashes. Snape gave her an ugly look, as if to make it clear that he thought it quite disgusting when eyelashes were batted at him. She sniffed, then slid over to his side.  
  
"Can I serve my detention with you, professor?"  
  
Snape's expression turned from ugly to amused. "That's perfectly alright, so long as you don't mind cleaning the 7th years' cauldrons, without using vanishing spells."  
  
"Alright professor," she said meekly, looking somewhat defeated. Constance was amused. Draco was perfectly amazed; he would never have guessed Snape was good at taming females.  
  
"Anyway," Snape turned his attention back to Draco. "As for the real reason I'm here, Mr. Malfoy, I think you may have a good idea what that is." 


	3. Surgit Amari Aliquid

A/N: Da da! Chapter two, finally. This was a bitch of a chapter to write, mostly because a family tree had to be drawn up prior to Lucinda and Constance telling Draco anything about their very odd family histories. And this chapter only just begins to introduce that. This is still an information chapter, first telling you of some Voldy related stuff, then some of Lucinda's family stuff. It's still not very serious, but this story *will* get serious later on, when it really picks up. Other than that...I can think of nothing more to say.

Disclaimer: JRK owns Harry Potter an stuff. I don't. Blah blah blah. Lucinda, Constance, Blood contracts, and other stuff that I made up are mine.

Also, thanks to moongirl13 and SatanSaphire for putting up with my slacking (but I still updated before you did, SatanSaphire!! So, HA!!!!).

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Chapter Two: Surgit Amari Aliquid (Something Bitter Arises)

"I do?" Draco looked up; he hadn't thought Snape was actually there to see him.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do. However, I would prefer to speak to you in a more...private setting." Snape glanced at the girls, then pulled his wand out. He pointed it at Draco. "Solvo. Now come with me."  
  


The thread that had been bind Draco disentangled itself and Draco was thrown from the chair. "Yes, professor."

He stood up, and followed Snape out. The journey to Snape's office was a long and silent one. Once they arrived, Snape seated himself behind his desk. Draco saw that his expression had turned from unamused to quite serious.

"Sit."

"Yes, sir," he sat in one of the stiff looking wooden chairs opposite Snape's desk.

"Do you really not know why I have called upon you tonight?"

"No, sir, I don't," Draco hoped he didn't look as annoyed as he felt. "Might you explain a bit?"

"Well, seeing as we won't get anywhere in this discussion if I don't," Snape looked at Draco evenly. "Well, it seems your father determined your future before you were even born."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems he made an agreement of sorts with the Dark Lord," Snape paused. "A blood contract."

"A what?"

"A blood contract merely states that the first-born or oldest living child of the signing party shall take up their affairs and position if anything were to happen to them." A slightly disdainful look passed over Snape's features. "It is something the Dark Lord uses to keep certain families bound to him whether the family likes it or not."

"So, what you're saying is," Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. "That I'm to assume his position in the Dark Lord's service?"

"That would be rather simplified way of looking at it," Snape looked at Draco pointedly. "You have to remember just how, shall we say, dedicated your father was, and most likely still is, to his Dark Lord. It would be disrespectful to say he isn't, at the very least, an impressive servant. However-"

Draco cut him off. "Tell me, professor, just who ordered you to tell me this?"

"However, it remains to be seen as to just how many of your father's duties he might expect you to be capable of doing." An annoyed glare flashed in Snape's eyes at the interruption. It faded to a slightly reproachful look before he answered Draco's question. "On no one's orders am I telling you this. That is not to say that others on both sides of this little war are not also aware of the situation."

"In other words, you just wanted to get me before they did, is that right?"

"No, Mr. Malfoy, my only concern is that you make a proper decision without being influenced by the opinions of others."

"So, tell me," Draco raised an eyebrow. "What would a "proper" decision be?"

"A "proper" decision, Mr. Malfoy, is one you make yourself," Snape replied simply. "I am not going to tell you how to handle this."

Draco stood up, slamming his palms onto Snape's desk. "Then I suppose this discussion is over, professor?"

"If you wish it to be." Snape appeared unaffected by Draco's actions.

"Good." Draco turned sharply, and left without another word. He hadn't walked very far, when he saw a figure turn into the corridor some ways down from where he was. He turned and walked the other way.

"HEY!" The voice was shrill and very female.

"Eh-?" He turned around to look at the speaker, who was now running at him full throttle. "AHH-!"

He found his arms bound to his sides and his feet tied together by a familiar green thread, and promptly fell over.

"You are not getting away this time!" Her voice was less shrill now, but still irritated. "Constance, for God's sake, help me!"

Constance appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and came to stand next to Lucinda, who was glaring at her. "Are you sure you need my help? You seem like you're doing just fine without it."

"What am I, some sort of toy?" Draco glowered up at them; they smiled. He let out a sigh of defeat. "I shouldn't have had to ask, right?"

They giggled at his masterful grasping of the obvious. He glowered at them again, feeling the urge to bang his head into the ground he was lying on. Constance stooped, and grabbed his left cheek and pulled. "Awww, I don't think he's enjoying this, Lucinda."

"Ow!!!!" He turned his head sharply, trying to bite her hand as it let go. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

"What?" Lucinda looked at him in astonishment. "You don't think there's an actual reason?"

"Wha-?" He looked at her in disbelief. "You mean you have a reason?"

"Do you actually think we'd just do this for the kicks?" Constance raised an eyebrow at him.

"Honestly?" He looked at them, eyebrows raised, a questioning and sarcastic looked on his face. They both looked at him as if waiting for him to finish. "Yes, I think you would."

"You don't know us very well then," Lucinda replied, smiling. "We usually are much more picky when it comes to selecting someone to play with."

Draco wasn't sure whether to offended or worried. "So why choose me?"

"That may take a bit of time to explain," Constance stood up as she answered him, throwing an odd look to Lucinda. "Shall we?"

"I suppose so," Lucinda nodded. "We ought to be getting back to the common room, anyways."

They turned away from him, as if to begin walking back the way they had come. Draco didn't have a chance to ask before it became obvious what they were intending. He felt the thread binding him get tighter, and then realized he was being dragged.

"Ow- Stop- Ow!" He gave up attempting to protest rather quickly, deciding it would be more constructive to simply sulk the entire way to the common room than it would be to complain.

After dragging him through what seemed to the route with the most stairs, Draco saw the floor of the common room moving beneath him at last. He was then violently thrown into one of the less than squashy chairs; he found himself unbound at that same moment. He glared at them; they smiled as if nothing was amiss.

"Alright, explain," he eyed them, as if he was feeling quite put-upon. Constance looked at him innocently; Lucinda blinked. "That is what you dragged me back here for, isn't it?"

"Hmm?" Lucinda blinked again, then cocked her head to the side; her expression suddenly turned to one of realization, as if she had just remembered something important. "Oh, yes. That."

Constance nodded, in agreement. "We do owe him that much, I guess."

"You should, seeing as you already told me you were going to explain yourselves.."

"Quiet, you," Constance pulled on his cheek again; he scowled and sent daggers from his eyes. "Shall we then, Lucinda?"

"I suppose so," Lucinda smiled crookedly. "It is funny, though, that we should have to explain this. I don't think he could possibly fathom half of what we have to say."

"Just get on with it!" He sent her a rather fierce look; she back away from him a bit and sat down in a chair across from Draco's.

"Well, we're going to assume our dear professor already explained the blood contract deal with you," Constance smacked the side of his face lightly, and perched herself on the arm of Lucinda's chair.

Draco nodded. "And what about the blood contract?"

"Well," Lucinda began slowly. "You could say that's something that be have in common."

"Eh-? How?" Draco looked at her in surprise. "Why would you be under a blood contract?"

"I haven't told you my last name, have I?" The crooked smile returned. Constance looked at warily, as if this was something she preferred to stay out of. "My full name is Lucinda Adelaide Black."

"Black-?" It took Draco a few moments before the meaning of that name dawned on him; he then realized it didn't quite add up in his head. "Shouldn't  I have heard of someone with the last name of Black attending Hogwarts by now?"

"Not if they usually go by their mother's maiden name," Lucinda said in a rather sharp tone.

"Oh. I suppose that would explain it," Draco nodded. "But how on earth is it possible for you be a Black?"

"Well considering my father is dead," she raised her eyebrows as if that were something he should have been able to figure out. "Its not entirely impossible."

"Uhm, well I guess that makes sense," he agreed, feeling a bit stupid not to have been able to deduce that. "Who was your father then?"

"Regulus Black," she replied simply.

He gaped at her in shock. "That can't be right."

"It is," she replied. "Even if he wasn't, though, I'd probably be under a blood contract anyway."

"How's that?" he looked at her, perplexed.

"I'm pure blood on both sides," she said matter-of-factly. "My mum is your father's cousin, on his mum's side."

Draco about fell out of his chair. "No, that isn't possible.."

"You think I like it?" She gave him a disdainful look.

"But- Why hadn't anyone told me of this?"

"Simple," she gave him an odd look. "The Malfoys stopped associating with us when my grandmother made, shall we say, "nice" with an incubus."

Draco paled. Constance glanced at Lucinda, then commented of Draco's current state. "I think you've told him enough for one night."

"You're probably right," Lucinda agreed after considering Constance's comment. "And to think, we haven't even told him about your family."

"You mean to tell me," Draco looked at them, somewhat scared. "That there's more?"

"Of course," Constance looked at him as if that should be obvious. "We're both pure bloods, after all."

"But," Lucinda continued. "As was just said, you've been told enough for now."

"You'll find out more later," Constance added. "It would just be cruel to tell you everything all at once."

"Since when does "cruel" make any difference to you?" Draco retorted; they smiled.

"Well," Lucinda countered. "We would like to keep sane, at the very least."

Constance nodded, and both stood up. "I think we'll be getting to bed now. It is rather late."

"Good ni~ight," Lucinda called behind them as they left.

Draco stared at their wake, and wondered what on earth he had done to be punished with such a terrible fate.


	4. Ex Cearulo

A/N: Wow, two chapters in one week. ^^; Yay. Anyways, the plot is still creeping alone, but there *are* some new developments in this chapter, and some slightly more major ones in the next chapter. From this chapter on, there will be classes, mostly Draco's potions class (you'll understand why by the time you finish this chappie). Also, an "erumpent" potion is one that gives you gas (you'll need to know that towards the end to get a joke).

Before i go away and let this be read, I just want to ask why people are such review scrooges. Its not nice, you meanies. =P You're lucky I don't care, otherwise this might not be living to see a third chapter. -_-

Disclaimer: Do I look like Rowling or Warner Bros.? No, I don't. All I claim ownership to in my frightening large TCG collection and the two sets of books I own (one American, one British).

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Chapter Three:Ex cearulo (Out of the Blue)

Somehow, Draco had been blessed with solitude the last three days of the holiday, giving him just enough time to get all his homework done. He supposed that Lucinda and Constance had finally realized their homework had to take precedence over driving him insane. Without them around, and homework to occupy every spare corner of his mind, he hadn't really thought about any of what he'd learned over the holiday. He had actually been in a rather good mood as he strode into the Great Hall for breakfast the first day of the new term.

Of course, that was before the owl came. It had nearly flown straight into the side of his head before landing with a spectacular thud a few feet down the table. At first he had been relieved to find it hadn't been for him, but in learning that he learned something far worse: it had been for Constance. It wouldn't have mattered to him very much if she and Lucinda hadn't kept glancing at him as they read the postcard the owl had brought. Upon finishing the postcard, they simply stared down the table at him, occasionally looking at one another before staring at him again.

"What?" He glared at them, very tired of feeling their prying little eyes on him. "If you have something to say, say it."

"Well," Constance looked at Lucinda as she tucked the postcard in her bag, then stood up. "If you insist."

Lucinda stood up and followed Constance as she moved down the table closer to Draco. "If you don't like what we tell you, you have no one to blame but yourself, got it?"

"Yes, yes," he scowled, wanting to get the torture over with. "Just get on with it."

Constance opened her bag, and pulled the postcard from it. "I'll bet you're curious about who this is from."

"I'm more curious as to what its about," he told her simply. "And what it had to do with me."

"Oh, its got lots to do with you," Lucinda informed him, shaking her head vigorously as if to impress her point upon him.

"That it does," Constance agreed. "Its from my cousin. He's a death eater-"

"-Of sorts," Lucinda cut her off, giving her a pointed look. "He's not a wizard, so technically he's just a servant of the Dark Lord."

"That's true," Constance nodded.

"Why would the Dark Lord even let him breathe, much less serve him if he's not a wizard?" Draco asked. "I didn't think muggles were exactly his style, unless you count his hobby of terrorizing them."

"Who said he was muggle?" was all Lucinda said before Constance continued on about the postcard.

"He sent this-" Constance waved the postcard a little. "-because you seem to be a hot topic of discussion at Chez Volde-"

Lucinda smacked her sharply in the arm. "Don't say the name! Dear God, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"Its not like you care," Constance replied indignantly.

Draco just stared at them, wondering why it had to take them so damn long to get to whatever point they happened to be trying to make. "So, what is it that's being said?"

"Eh-? Oh," Constance smiled. "Seems Volde-" Lucinda smacked her arm again. "-the Dark lord," he corrected herself as sarcastically as possible. "Has quite the interest in you."

"Yes," Lucinda added coolly. "Seems your daddy was quite special. One of his favorite pets, so to speak."

"Yeah, nothing like yours at all," Draco commented sardonically. "Just because my father was one of his favorites does not mean I'm in any position to take his place."

"I'm pretty sure," Constance raised her eyebrows. "That he doesn't care too much."

"Well," Draco said, feeling a bit annoyed, and sure that it was easy to hear in his voice. "Right now, I've got much more pressing matters to deal with."

"Such as-?" Lucinda looked at him, inquisitively.

"Such as three and a half hours of N.E.W.T. potions," he informed her. "With Snape. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Oh no you don't," Lucinda's expression suddenly turned to very perky and slightly manic. Draco was not thrilled. "Not with out me, that is."

"And just what will you accomplish by following me?"

"More than you'd think," she positively beamed at him; she obviously was aware of something he wasn't. "Now, come on. We'll be late!"

She quite literally grabbed him by the arm, and skittered off towards the dungeons dragging him behind her; Draco caught a glimpse of Constance as she fell off the Slytherin table's bench, from what looked like the inability to breathe due to laughing too hard. Draco was definitely scared.

They arrived in the stairwell that lead down to potions classroom within five minutes of leaving the great hall. Or rather, she stopped at the top of the stairs, and "accidentally" let go him, causing him to both fall down the stairs and suffer a nasty bit of whiplash. He had apparently flown straight into the door before making contact with the stone floor; moments after he landed, the door opened to reveal a very perturbed looking professor Snape.

"Up, boy. Surely," he said, absolutely glowering at Draco. "That is no way for such a-" he paused, to pick exactly the right word to use. "-_prominent_ Slytherin Such as yourself to behave, is it?"

"Yes, sir," he venerated, glaring at Lucinda as she skipped down the steps, looking cheerful and innocent.

"Ah, Miss Altus," Snape smiled oddly as he said this. "Come with me. I'm not at all in the mood to let you scare anymore of my sixth year students."

"Yes, professor," she smiled a very fake and sugary sweet smile, while batting her eyelashes.

She followed Snape into the classroom, leaving Draco to pick himself up without another word. He scowled, and trudged into the dungeon. When he reached his seat, he let his bag fall onto his worktable rather violently; the noise echoed about the room for several minutes. Everyone stared at him.

"Class," Snape stood at the front of the room, staring at his students, a rather nasty smile on his face. He was clearly enjoying himself. "I would like to, shall we say, welcome a new...addition to this class."

Everyone looked around, wondering if the rest of the room was as clueless as they were. Hermione Granger eyed Draco suspiciously; he stuck out hi tongue and looked daggers at her. She rolled her eyes and averted her gaze to elsewhere in the room.

Snape ignored the chatter, and turned to look behind him, at his office door. "Miss Altus?"

Lucinda just about bounded out of Snape's office like a small dog that had been locked up just a bit too long. Snape raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She Scurried over to the professor's side. Snape looked out at the classroom, not needing to refocus their attention; any that had been lost had returned when Lucinda had come scampering out. He seemed to be looking for a table to sit Lucinda at more than he was looking for his Class's attention, anyhow.

"Ah, I think I shall pair you with Miss Granger," he smiled crookedly, finding that idea to be deliciously amusing. Draco wasn't sure whether to laugh at Hermione, or to feel pity; Hermione made a loud choking noise. Snape's smile widened. "Yes, I think that will do nicely. I'm sure Miss Granger can answer any question you might have."

Lucinda nodded vigorously. "Yes, professor."

"One thing, professor," Hermione stood up as she spoke.

"And what might that be?"

"She isn't actually studying at the N.E.W.T. level, is she?"

"Oh," Snape seemed to have remembered something. "No, she is not. She simply had to be moved out of the normal fifth year class-" he paused, again picking his words carefully. "-due to complications."

"I...see," Hermione let out a very audible sigh and sat down. Draco suppressed a laugh. No, he was certainly not going to pity her, he had decided. He wasn't quite that nice.

Snape turned to Lucinda before she had a chance to be seated. "Do be aware that I fully expect you to pass the O.W.L. exam for my class, after sitting in the N.E.W.T. class for a full term." She nodded and scurried off.

Lucinda took under a minute to settle herself in next to Hermione. Draco was one table over them, at a diagonal with theirs. It was, perhaps, very fortunate that the assignment for that day was not a very complicated one, as far as N.E.W.T. classes went; he was particularly distracted that day, watching Lucinda do everything in her power to drive Hermione mad. It was a very satisfying thing to watch. But he could no longer enjoy himself when he discovered that his potion was making strange noises at him, almost as if it were attempting speech.

"What in-" He stared at it; Lucinda and Hermione clearly heard the sound as well. It took them a few moments to realize where it was coming from. Draco was stunned to see that Hermione looked quite stumped; she apparently did not know what he could have done to cause that reaction.

The potion's noises became clearer as it continued to "speak". It was making finally pronounciated hissing noises by the time Snape had noticed something was more than a little odd at Draco's table. It did not take very long for professor Snape to drop what he had been doing and come trotting back to Draco's table, looking both perturbed and a startled. "See me after class, Mr. Malfoy," was all he said as he performed a quick vanishing spell before walking away. He clearly knew what had happened.

Hermione stared at Draco, as if he should somehow be able to explain. Lucinda giggled; Draco had the creeping feeling that she knew what had happened as well. Hermione shot her an annoyed look; Lucinda smiled innocuously, discontinuing her giggles.

Draco stared at his now empty cauldron, trying to remember what he done to his potion before it had started to hiss. He looked up, and noticed that Snape was looking at him furtively. Somehow, Draco was sure he didn't want to hear the explanation.

He was knocked away from any thinking he might have done by the sensation of having his arm poked rather roughly. He turned to look at the offender, an almost blank, but yet almost sarcastic expression resting on his features.

"What do you want?"

Lucinda frowned, apparently not amused by his reaction. "I thought you might like to know that its time to clean up."

"Oh," he gave her an annoyed look. "He wants me to stay after. I've got plenty of time. Besides-" he pointed to his cauldron. "-I don't really have much to clean."

"I suppose that's true," she nodded. "Though I am fairly certain he would rather you were cleaned up before he spoke to you."

"I guess so," he stood up, collecting his ingredients. Then he turned to her, remembering something he had wanted to ask her earlier. "What might those "complications" have been that caused Snape to switch you into this class?"

"Oh, something about Ginny Weasley being tricked into drinking a very powerful erumpent potion," she replied, sounding altogether too casual about it.

"Erumpent-?" He couldn't finish the phrase; he was laughing so hard he had to sit down in order not to fall over.

"Was it that funny?" She looked at him curiously.

"Ye-yes," he stammered between giggles. "I wish I could have seen it!"

"Oh, well," she smiled and batted her eyelashes. "Maybe next time?"

"What," he began, goggling at her in disbelief. "Is torturing Ginny Weasley your hobby?"

"Naturally."

He continued to stare at her, then dissolved into more laughter. She looked at him as if he were insane, then walked back to her table to finish cleaning her workspace. Draco folded his arms on his table and buried his face in them in an effort to not make a scene. This of course, meant he did not notice when Snape approached his table.

"And what, pray tell," Snape asked slowly. "Is so amusing-?"

"Eh-? Ah!" Draco sat bolt upright, all laughing purged from his thoughts. "Uhm, nothing, professor."

"At any rate, Mr. Malfoy," Snape began calmly. "You will notice that class is over."

Draco looked around. The classroom had emptied sometime between Lucinda informing him of her hobby and Snape jolting him out of his laughter. Draco nodded, to imply he understood what Snape meant.

"Into my office, Mr. Malfoy," Snape ordered. 


	5. Pacta Sunt Servanda

A/N: O_o! And I have finished chappie 4! Yay. :D This is getting interesting. Quite a bit happens in this one, too. The mystery of the hissing cauldron is explained, and you get to meet the last of the three OC's. ^_^ You won't get to fully meet him until the next chapter, but at least he actually exists beyond his letter. Chapter 5 will be coming sometime after I go stalk Tom Felton.

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Harry Potter? No, I don't. So piss off.

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Chapter Four: Pacta sunt servanda (Agreements Must be Honored)

Snape said nothing more until they were both in his office, the door quickly sealed with a charm. Draco did not think this was a good sign; previously, when Snape had told him of the blood contracts, he hadn't bothered to do anything more than close the door.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape began, looking suddenly agitated. "It has begun."

"What has, professor?" Draco looked at him. He hadn't been expecting that sort of phrase.

"A chain of events I had hoped would not happen," Snape turned to go his desk, his back facing Draco as he spoke. "Events that could become most... dire."

"Dire-? I would hardly call a hissing cauldron "dire"," Draco stated, frowning. He wasn't sure he entirely believed what he was saying.

"It wouldn't be," Snape looked at him, now less agitated than before. "If it weren't speaking Parseltongue."

Draco's mouth twitched, but he could think of nothing to say. That it had been speaking in Parseltongue was the last thing he might have guessed.

"I can see from the expression on your face that find this bit of information more than a little shocking," Snape said simply, in a tone that seemed to convey that he understood Draco's reaction. "But you must be willing to not only except this fact as true, but to also except what it means."

"Oh, I know what it means," Draco said curtly. "Not that I want to, but I know its either face it, or find myself very dead, very fast."

Snape smiled, as though this was what he had been hoping Draco would say. "I must say that I'm relieved that you caught on so quickly, Mr. Malfoy."

"Which means-?" Draco looked at him expectantly.

"It means that I have only to ask you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied smoothly, unruffled. "Whether you've made a decision as to where you stand in all this."

"What's it to you if I have or not?"

Snape considered this for a moment, then replied. "I would suppose it isn't my business."

"Well then stay out it," Draco snapped, standing up.

"I'm not certain if that will be completely possible," Snape began, standing as well. "Not while so much remains untold and unseen, even to myself."

Draco couldn't think of a good retort, so he simply glared at the professor. Snape said nothing, and looked unaffected. Draco's expression dropped when he found himself suddenly curious about something.

"Er, professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco's sudden change of mood.

"You wouldn't happen to know what my cauldron was... saying, would you?" Draco asked, feeling a little sheepish.

"I wondered if you might ask. I do not speak the language of snakes, b but I know that particular phrase well enough." Snape smiled oddly, pausing for a moment before simply stating, "Agreements must be honored."

Draco was quite sure of what that meant. It gave him a sudden, inexplicable chill. He turned, and walked to the door.

"I do suggest you make your decision soon," Snape said before breaking the charm he had put on the door to seal it.

Draco said nothing, leaving the dungeons as quickly as possible. When he reached the top of the stairs that lead out of the potions classroom, he heard a cry of "viridis vinxi!" before finding himself once again bound by a slender thread that seemed to be made of pale green light. Then he heard giggling. He groaned.

""Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me"," he heard Lucinda quote. "But what is it when you're fooled thrice?"

"That," Constance replied. "Is a very good question, indeed."

"I suppose," Draco put in. "That you're going to drag me all over creation again before letting me go?"

"No, just until we get to the common room." They stated together.

Yet again, he was dragged through what seemed like every set of stairs the ancient castle contained. When they got to the common room, they didn't do him the service of tossing him in a chair before unbinding him this time, just threw him roughly on the throw rug by the fire. He sat up slowly, emitting various pained sounds as they seated themselves in two of the armchairs.

"So," Lucinda began slowly, an unusual edge to her voice. "What did our dear professor have to say this time?"

Draco stared at the fire as he found himself feeling unsure of just how much he could trust them. He decided, though, that from the expression he had seen on Lucinda's face when his cauldron had begun to speak earlier she knew exactly what Snape had told him.

"Parseltongue," he replied flatly. "But-" He began, turning his face from the fire, to look at her reproachfully. "You knew that, didn't you?"

She smiled. "You catch on quick," she said quietly, nodding in approval.

He snorted, smiling ruefully. "Snape also said something along those lines."

"Did he? Interesting. I don't suppose he told you what the cauldron was saying, did he?"

"What-?" Draco looked at her in amazement. "You mean, you don't know?"

"How would I?" She said, looking perplexed. "Its not like I'm a parselmouth."

"Well, Snape knew, and he's not either!" Draco snapped. He looked away again, feeling extremely irritated. "Snape said it meant "agreements must be honored"."

Lucinda didn't say anything. When she opened her mouth to speak a few moments later, a large barn owl came swooping in through the stone doorway as a group of second years entered. It landed on the arm of the chair Constance was sitting in and looked at her expectantly. She goggled at it for a few moments before coming to her senses and taking the folded slip of paper that was tied to its left foot. She read it quickly, then looked up, an odd look on her face.

"Its from Dominic," she whispered, looking at Lucinda.

"Who?" Draco asked, utterly clueless now.

"My cousin," Constance told him hastily. "Anyway, it seems his lordship is rather... impatient."

"Let me guess what he's impatient for," Draco looked at her, frowning. "Me, correct?"

"Of course," she said simply. She looked the letter over again before continuing. "It doesn't say much more, just that he'll be in contact soon."

Lucinda grabbed the letter from Constance, who in turn glared at her. "You overlooked something rather important, dear," she raised her eyebrows at Constance.

"Oh," Constance eyed her defiantly. "What might that be?"

"He also says that our dear Dark Lord wants him to be the one to come fetch Draco," Lucinda stated. Her expression then changed to one of innocence, and she batted her eyelashes before going on. "Oh, wait, Draco's not supposed to know that yet.."

Draco stared at Lucinda in disbelief, and Constance dropped her head down, slamming it into a palm raised to catch it.

"Whoops," Lucinda grinned.

"Oh, I'm sure you feel just awful about letting that slip," Constance rolled her eyes.

"Oh, yes," Lucinda answered slyly. "I'm absolutely devastated."

Draco sighed impatiently, and stood up, wanting to leave the two girls, and discussion they were having. It wasn't really where he wanted to be at that moment.

"Hey," Constance said. "What're you doing?"

"Going to my dormitory, if that's all right," He snapped edgily.

She blinked. Lucinda looked at Draco curiously, then said, "Of course it is."

He was taken aback, just a bit, but was too agitated and tired to really care that they were going to let him go, just like that. He heard one of them murmur a goodbye as he left them. He didn't reply; he didn't care to do anything except get away from them.

When he reached the dormitory, he found it blessedly empty. There would be no one to bother him until classes were over for the day, most likely. He was suddenly very glad he didn't have an afternoon class that day; he had some time to get his mind off of what was going on. He pulled out a quill and some parchment, intending to work on the essay Snape had given them in class earlier that day.

He didn't get very far though. The essay topic was a very boring one, and he was tired from not being able to sleep correctly for the last week due to all the chaos he had been suddenly been thrown into. He dozed off while still on the third line of the first paragraph. He woke to the sound of what he at first thought was a flute. An odd thing to be hearing in his dormitory. It didn't bother him much, and it didn't occur to him that there had to be someone producing the music in the room with him. He got up to find out where the music was coming from, and his eyes fell upon the player.

"Ahh!"

"For God's sake, don't scream!" The older boy said.

"Who in the hell are you?" was all Draco could managed to say.

The boy smiled, amused now that Draco had stopped screaming. "I would be Dominic. You've met my cousin, I assume?"


	6. Graviora Quaedam Sunt Remedia Periculis

A/N: Well, here we are, another chapter. _Yay. This one's kinda long, actually, so maybe that'll make up for the lack of updates and whatnot. It seems like a lot happens in this chapter, but I'm not sure very much really does. Hmm. Well, you get to meet the last of the OC's, and you find out some fun info at the end._

Disclaimer: No, I don't Harry Potter. Whatever makes you think I might? Geez.

*sniffles* *puppy dog eyes* You see that menu at the bottom, with the little "go" button? The one that says, "submit review"? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about…

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Chapter Five: _graviora quaedam sunt remedia periculis (_Some remedies are worse than the disease.) 

Dominic moved out of the corner he'd been standing in, towards Draco. Three earrings in his left ear, and dark shaggy hair framed a face that might have been pretty had it not been for his bird-like eyes and impish expression it was twisted into. He was holding some sort of small wind instrument that Draco didn't recognize. Needless to say, Draco was not having positive feelings towards him.

"Would you bloody tell me why you're in my dormitory?" Draco glared at Dominic, then gazed around the room after realizing how loud he was speaking. Somehow, no one was stirring. "You'd think they'd wake up.."

"Not if I don't them to," Dominic said mischievously. "You don't think I'm that stupid, do you?"

"Well," Draco began flatly, throwing Dominic a dirty look. Dominic didn't flinch. "I wouldn't call it "smart" to break into Hogwarts in the middle of the night, so, yes, I do think you might be that stupid."

"Interesting. Well," Dominic raised an eyebrow, and continued to ignore Draco's glares. "I suppose what I'm about to do might also be considered stupid." He shrugged, then added. "Oh well."

Before Draco could say anything, Dominic brought his odd little instrument to his lips and played. After three or four minutes of repeating the same three notes, the knob on the door to the room turned. A dazed, half awake looking Constance fumbled in. As she approached the bed, the music changed abruptly to rather jarring and very loud. Constance's eyes opened very wide, and she rammed her head into one the posts of Draco's bed.

Draco just stared. Dominic laughed. Constance recovered quickly, and lunged at Dominic who changed the music he was playing again, this time playing one low, long note. Constance could no longer move any part of her body besides her head. Draco moved to sit down on his bed as Constance glared at Dominic.

"You just don't learn do ya?" Dominic stopped playing, and laughed.

Constance wasn't expecting to be freed so suddenly, and fell backwards onto Draco's bed. 

"Ahh!!" Draco shrieked as she fell inches away from him. Dominic continued to laugh, while both Constance and Draco looked at him angrily.

"I suppose this what you meant by "being in contact soon?"" Constance asked wryly.

"Unintentionally, but yes," he said cheerfully. "Is that... bad for you?"

She stared at him in disbelief, then said, "Just a little."

Draco glanced from one to the other of them, feeling mightily confused. Of course he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know what was going on either. His curiosity got the better him, though, as he asked, "Would someone mind telling what is going on?"

Dominic and Constance looked at him in astonishment, as though they hadn't been expecting him to actually ask. Not that it seemed to bother them of course. Constance sat up and perched on the edge of Draco's bed, looking rather intrigued.

"What would you like to know?" she asked in a curiously, though it sounded somewhat underhanded.

"Well, gee I don't know," he snapped irritably. "Maybe "why I am being visited by strange people in the middle of the night?""

Constance looked amused by this; Dominic seemed a little offended. "A strange person, am I?" He asked, looking a bit ruffled. "_Well_."

"He has the right to ask, I suppose," Constance pointed out. "Besides, you are rather odd, Dominic."

Dominic threw her a heated look, but dropped the issue by changing the subject. "I'm going to assume he has yet to be informed of our background?"

Constance nodded. "He doesn't even know Lucinda's entire story."

"Please tell me you don't have a long, twisted history too," Draco pleaded.

"Its more odd than anything else," she said, a satisfied smiled spreading across her face. "Nothing like Lucinda's, mind."

Draco didn't know whether to think that was a good thing or not. Dominic sensed this, and decided to make sure Draco would not find a way to escape. A thin trill of music, the sort of low melody that could lull you to sleep if it hadn't just enough beat to keep you alert began to waft lazily around the room; Draco found himself unable to do little more than watch and listen to his captors.

Constance smiled approvingly. "Not a bad idea. Certainly easier than tying him up."

"It has a bit more permanence, too, don'tcha think?" Dominic asked, then added. "So, shall we?"

"We shall," she confirmed, moving eyes to the half-conscious Draco. He didn't seem to be noticing much of anything around him. "Maybe you ought to let up on that spell, just a little.."

"Hmm," Dominic considered her suggestion a moment before complying; a soft, high note rang for a full count. Draco's head snapped to attention, but no other part of him moved. Satisfied, Dominic looked questioningly at Constance, asking, "How's that for you?"

"Who cares what she thinks!" Draco snapped, quite glad to be able to put his two cents in again. Eying the instrument in Dominic's fingers, Draco continued. "Put that bloody-" he fumbled, then realized he had no idea what the proper name for the thing was. "Oh bloody hell!"

"Never tell a bard to part with his instrument, boy," he said quietly, suddenly serious. "And for heaven's sake, if you don't know what to call it, just ask."

"Well, then what should I call it, _bard_?" Draco asked spitefully.

"Never take the title of bard lightly, either-" Dominic paused, his eyes looking particularly sharp and bird-like- "Especially when you are unarmed." 

"Just tell me what to call the bloody thing, already."

"Patience, child. This," he said, holding his instrument up in his right hand, pointing at it with his left. "Is an ocarina."

"And yes," Constance said quickly. "That is all you need to know about it."

"I didn't-" Draco stopped, looking at her venomously. "Why would I need to know anymore?"

"Hmm," Constance conceded. "Very true. So maybe you do have some common sense."

Really now, Constance," Dominic gave her a warning look. "Is that really necessary?"

"Common sense?" She looked at him questioningly. "Hmm, no, I guess not-"

"You know that wasn't what I meant," Dominic cut her off, sounding a little put off.

"Naturally," she nodded. He rolled his eyes.

"I don't have time for this," He began to turn towards the door. "I only came here to deliver a message."

"A message?" Draco looked at Dominic curiously. "From who?"

"That's-" Dominic paused, "-not important. But the message is, I think." He turned back a little to look at them. "Now do you want to hear it or not?"

"Yes," Draco said firmly.

"Stay as you are until contacted by he who is to bring you to where you must go. When and where this will occur, I couldn't tell you. I don't think anybody could at this time." He turned back to the door. "Now I must take my leave. Farwell."

Draco wasn't sure what happened next; he clenched his eyes shut as a large gust of wind whipped his face. When he opened his eyes, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Nothing except for the feathers that were strewn about.

"What the hell?"

"Just-" Constance pursed her lips as she paused in her thought. "-Don't ask. Let's just say you'll know what that was when you learn my family's history."

With that, she slipped out of the dormitory, leaving Draco alone but save for a headache that was newly forming as he contemplated what had just happened.

The office was dark, a little musty; lit only by candles, it had been just a little too long since it had last been thoroughly cleaned. The two men talked in hushed voices over the desk the older of the two was sitting in. The floor near the door was littered with feathers.

"Did you deliver the message, boy?"

"Yes, I did sir," Dominic looked at Snape, something of a challenge in his bird eyes.

"You should know better than to give me that sort of look," Snape said quietly, a bit of an edge to his voice. "And you didn't reveal to them my identity, did you?"

"Of course not," Dominic looked away from Snape's unwavering gaze.

Snape seemed satisfied at hearing that, a leaned back into his chair, seemingly a bit more relaxed than he had been. He looked something of a fright, however, and more so than was normal even for him. Dominic looked at him apprehensively, as if to ask if he could leave or not. Snape raised an eyebrow at the boy's unease, but nodded to him. There was a sharp blast of air, at which Snape closed his eyes. Opening them, he smiled to himself.

"You may- "Snape snapped his fingers and the door slowly swung inward. "Enter now, children."

The opening door revealed a very innocent looking Lucinda, who slowly came into the room with mock anxiety. "I'm not," she said innocuously. "-interrupting anything, am I?"

"Of course not. You never interrupt," he replied, smiling just a bit. "Why interrupting, when snooping is ever so much more fun, hmm?"

"Naturally," she stated matter-of-factly before changing the subject. "What was he doing here, Uncle?"

"Oh, just..paying a visit," he said slowly. "It not really your business, dear."

"Oh, but everything concerning you is always my business," she told him, batting her eyelashes."

"Is that so?" He smiled a wry sort of smile. "Hmm. Well, whatever shall I do with you, then?"

"You tell me," she said before hoping up on his desk.

"I suppose it was too much to ask to expect you to of any help," he replied sarcastically.

"Of course, she agreed. "Oh, by the way," she added casually, crossing her legs. "I think someone followed me down here."

Snape looked jolted at hearing that. "What do you mean, followed? By whom?"

"Dear uncle, there's only two people in this world quite so stupid as to even be curious enough about why I'm wandering about in the middle of the night to bother following me around."

"Ah- yes, I suppose-" he was cut off by the sound of someone falling down the dungeon stairs.

"That would be them now," Lucinda said calmly.

Snape looked amused, but said nothing as he stood up to go check on his callers. He found, at the bottom of the dungeon's steps, both of Lucinda's followers in a quite deplorable state.

"Must you be so noisy in your stalkings, children?" He asked, his annoyance showing throw just a bit.

Draco sat up, looking at the professor in alarm; Constance glared at Draco- Snape decided that the trip down the stairs must have been Draco's fault. As they disentangled themselves from one another, Snape clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"I suppose you'll want to come and join our little party," Snape said irritatedly. They both nodded silently. "Well, come along now, we haven't got all night you two."

They followed him back to his office without another word. Lucinda looked pleased when she saw them come in. She giggled at Constance's annoyed expression.

"It was his fault," Constance grumbled. "Alllllllll his fault. Bloody klutz, he is."

Lucinda nearly fell off Snape's desk as she collapsed into giggles. In the midst of the giggles, Draco began slithering towards the door, hoping to escape.

"Like hell," Lucinda said, suddenly quite serious.

Draco skulked over to one of the chairs, but before he sat down he noticed something that seemed to him very odd. "Feathers, more feathers. What the hell is with the feathers?!"

"Oh, those?" Lucinda asked casually, glancing at Constance, who in turn squirmed a bit in the chair she was sitting in. "You tell him Constance- it's your family after all."

"Oh, but you'd enjoy telling him so much more," Snape murmured. "It would certainly be more, ah, dramatic coming from you."

"If you insist, Uncle," Lucinda said with a mock pout on her lips.

"UNCLE?!" Constance and Draco stared at Lucinda and Snape in confused horror.

"Oops," Lucinda said innocently as Snape shook his head in disappointment.

"Oops, indeed," Snape said quietly.

"Why have I got this feeling," Draco said gloomily. "That I'm never going to understand anything, ever?"

"Because you won't," Lucinda said simply. Snape gave her sharp look. "Anyways, he's not my uncle."

"He's not?" Draco asked.

"The only Uncle I've got is dead, silly," Lucinda said cheerfully. "He's my Godfather."


	7. Ne Fronti Crede

A/N: And here were are, at chapter six. Quite a bit happens here actually. More secrets are revealed, and *dum dum dum* enter Dumbledore. I can't really say much about what happens without flat out giving stuff away.

And on another note, I know there are people reading this story, but are holding out on me review wise. I have a hit counter, so you can't hide from me. Perhaps I need to be more specific when I say I'd like some reviews- I'd like someone besides Moony and Saphire (though she seems to have disappeared) to review. Now onto the fic. _!

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Chapter Six: _Ne Fronti Crede_ (Don't trust to appearances.)

"What." Constance could barely say the word, much less make it sound like a question. Then, finding her voice somehow, she added, "Why have I not heard of this until now?"

"Because you weren't supposed to know," Lucinda replied, as if such a fact were obvious. "But what's done is done, so let's... just forget it happened, shall we?"

"Yes, let's shall," Snape agreed, almost a bit too quickly. "It's a shame, but there isn't a memory charm delicate enough for such a situation as this."

Lucinda was obviously about to suggest something of the like, as her expression fell a bit when he rejected it out of hand. Instead of letting her mind linger on this, she jumped down from where she was perched on her Godfather's desk, and stepped over to where Draco was sitting. Poking him, she inquired, "We haven't lost you, have we?"

Draco stared at her in annoyance for a few seconds before replying. "Look, I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear what I know I heard, ad ask again: What the bloody hell is with all these damn feathers?"

"Ah-" Constance jumped in at hearing that. "That would be- er- my family's dirty little secret, I suppose.."

"I gathered that," Draco told her, sounding a bit bothered. "I'm looking more for an explanation than a pretty label."

"I know that," Constance said, looking a little tense. She fidgeted for a moment, as if not sure what to say next, then began again. "Well, I suppose I ought to just show you."

"Show-?" Draco asked confusedly, as Constance stood up. Lucinda settled herself on the arm of Draco's chair before turning her full attention on Constance. As soon as it began, it was over. Draco felt the same sharp gust of wind as he hard when Dominic had left, and clamped his eyes shut. Opening them, the sight he saw a bit different from when Dominic had performed this little stunt, as Constance was still standing before them. She looked, of course, completely different. Draco stared in amazement; he hadn't expected her to have wings. More feathered littered the floor, and he noticed her eyes had changed to a sharp yellow color.

"Well?" Constance asked them. "Do you get it now?"

"Not at all." Draco shook his head.

"You should have known he wouldn't be familiar with your kind," Lucinda told her. Turning to Draco, she said, "She's a Harpy."

"Why do you insist on always using that word?" Constance glared at her.

"'Cause I like it," Lucinda told, sticking out her tongue. "Its correct enough, isn't it, Uncle?"

"A bit crude, but yes, still correct," he agreed. "But I'm not certain Draco knows what a Harpy is."

"I'm afraid I don't," Draco said meekly.

"How blunt must I be with you before you get it?!" Constance nearly shrieked. "I'm part Harpy! Siren! A harbinger of insanity and death!"

"I knew you brought insanity," Draco said coolly. "I didn't know there was a reason."

Lucinda had to hold Constance back to keep her from taking him from insanity into death. "Down Girl," she said to Constance. Constance growled at her.

Once Lucinda had decided Constance was calm enough to be freed, Constance folded her wings back in, which was significantly less violent of a process than unfolding them had been. She then sat down in the chair she had occupied previously, as though she had nothing more to say. Lucinda, of course, was not one to let things rest without a few more blows to Draco's sanity.

"Surely that can be all you're going to tell him," she urged, pouting a little.

"Is the rest really that important?" Constance asked. "He only knows of my mixed blood because of my cousin's carelessness about his exits."

"Should've known that wouldn't be all," Draco muttered gloomily. "I expect you'll be telling me you're related to me too?"

"Wow, he does catch on quick," Lucinda said brightly.

"You're not serious," Draco said, a touch of doom in his tone.

"Oh of course we're serious." Lucinda purred, then paused to chew on her lower lip. "Ow!" She cried out.

"Huh?" Draco shoved her off of the chair. "What do you mean 'ow'?"

Lucinda did not reply, as there was blood dripping down her chin.  Snape looked up from his paperwork.

"What have you done now?"

Lucinda sniffed. "I don't know, it hurts. Ow!" That was when all noticed her fangs. Snape sighed. 

"Now I see what you've done. Come here." He said wearily. Lucinda walked up to him. He cast a quick healing spell and wiped the blood off her chin. 

Draco looked disdainfully at the dribbles of blood on the floor. "Couldn't you have at least not dripped on the floor." Lucinda growled at him, Snape grabbed her by the shoulder. 

"Be careful not to bite yourself again." She looked up at him.

"What?" She looked confused. "But I always chew on my lower lip." 

Constance finally spoke up. "Why wasn't I told you have fangs?"

"Because," Snape said crankily, "she didn't know either."

"Didn't know what?" Draco asked. "Is she some sort of freak?" He peered at Lucinda in a strange manner. "Nice ears." He stated calmly. 

"What!!!" Lucinda reached up to feel her ears with a index finger, and realized quickly that they were razor sharp. "OW!" The aforementioned finger was promptly stuck in her mouth. "Like you can talk _cousin._" Draco frowned.

"Shut up." He said.

"Great comeback." Constance raised her eyebrows. 

"Why is this happening to me?" Lucinda whined.

"I'll fix it later." Snape finally said. 

"Fix what? You mean I'm supposed to look like this?" She cried. 

"Unfortunately, it appears so." Draco said and laughed. Lucinda glared at him. 

"Professor, you had best explain." Lucinda said.  

Snape sighed. "Its just part of your inheritance."

"Yeah, the less attractive part," Draco said snidely.

"Shut up Draco." Constance said again, though in a rougher tone this time. "So what else does this 'inheritance' include?"

"That is not for you to know," Snape informed her hastily. 

"What else is wrong with her?" Draco asked. Snape glared at him.

"Nothing's wrong with me!" Lucinda wailed.

"You have violet eyes and there's nothing wrong with you?" Draco asked portentously. 

"What? I do not have purple eyes."

"You do now." Constance said jovially.

Lucinda glared at her. "Professor would you please explain this to me?" Snape sighed.

"If I must, I must;" he said defeatedly. "You've had a _Glamourie _placed over you since you were born." 

"A what? What kind of explanation is that?"

He looked at her in exasperation, but did not continue . Instead, very suddenly he grasped at his forearm, as though it were hurt. Then, just as suddenly, he told them, "All of you… go to bed." His voice shook a little as he spoke.

They all filed out of the office, none speaking, but all knowing that they must, for what had happened was anything but normal. And it seemed none really had any desire to know. But as they continued down the hall. and out of sight, Lucinda realized that he hadn't fixed her "problem".

"He didn't fix it." She ran back to his office, leaving Constance and Draco to continue on alone. When she reached his office, she tried the knob, but found that it was locked. She stepped back and called for him instead.

"Uncle Sev!! You forgot to fix it!!" The door did not open, and she heard no sounds inside. "Uncle Sev? Are you there?"

After waiting far longer than a few seconds, she sniffled a little and left Snape's office doorway. But she didn't head back to Slytherin dormitory.

A few minutes later, Lucinda was at her destination, banging on Dumbledore's office door. It was very late now; perhaps two or even three in the morning. Not that Lucinda seemed to care. She had been told before her first year that she could call on Dumbledore for counsel whenever she needed. And now seemed just as good a time as any to take him up on his offer. 

She continued to bang on the door until she heard sounds from inside that weren't coming from the indignant portraits on the other side. When the door finally opened, it revealed a not quite awake Dumbledore wearing a long purple nightshirt. "What is it child?"

"Something's wrong with me." Lucinda whined. "And Uncle Sev won't tell me what it is nor will he fix it."

"Dear me, that is a problem." He motioned for her to enter. "Now, what is this all about?"

"What makes you think I know?" She sniffed, and batted her eyelashes. "All Uncle Sev would tell me was that I had a _Glamourie_ placed on me at birth."

"A _Glamourie_?" He gave her a thoroughly interested look as he sat down behind his desk. "Why, whatever for? And what is so very different about you that makes it necessary?"

"These," she said, baring her teeth. Pulling her hair away from her ears, she added, "And these."

"Ah. So you are endowed with some very, how shall I say, curious features." He smiled, looking strangely amused. It was almost as though he had been expecting to have this conversation. "I'm surprised you yourself hadn't seen this coming, what with the rather inhuman blood which flows through your veins."

She gave a start, but quickly relaxed after realizing her mother had told him specifically of her heritage upon receiving her first Hogwarts letter. "Actually, I had been wondering why I didn't look different. I just don't understand why no one told me anything."

"It was just as well that you did not know. At least, that is what your mother told me," he paused, the look on his face gave her the impression he did not fully believe that. "The Glamourie was necessary, however- it masks much more than just your physical features."

Lucinda only looked more puzzled at that. Dumbledore smiled at her, quietly realizing just how little she knew of what being a half-breed meant. "Why does it seem to me that you have no idea what a _Glamourie_ even is?"

"Because I don't," she stated flatly.

"Ah. Well, I should explain it then, shouldn't I?" He smiled cheerfully. "A _Glamourie_ is a special type of spell that can only be cast by wizards who possess blood that is, shall we say, a little less than human. It hides not only what makes you physically different, but also those things which might draw attention from less than desirable parties."

"If wizards who not fully human have this ability, then why do werewolves not use it to better hide themselves?" Lucinda asked. "There must be some kind of catch. Or specific circumstances, or-"

"No catch, child. Werewolves are unfortunate in that, while they are half-breeds, they are still human insofar as the blood than run through them," Dumbledore informed her, though it seemed to be with just a touch of bitterness. "But you are right, in that the situation must be a special one- such that not casting _Glamourie_ would be dangerous not just for the afflicted party, but for those around them as well."

"So why bother putting one on me? There isn't anything immediately noticeable about me," Lucinda said, frowning uncertainly. "And besides, what value is there to anyone in someone who is only a fourth Incubus? I can't do anything very special."

"It is true that you possess none of the- er- special talents of said creature," he gave her a surprisingly serious look. "However, that does not mean you can act as a link to the dark power that lives in all night creatures- the power to not only create, but to control and destroy life."

--------------------

Professor Severus Snape was not a happy man just then. Of course, he isn't often happy. But at that particular moment, he was more unhappy than was usual for him. He was in pain. But not just any pain. A fire had begun in his left arm; it started near his wrist and had been working its way up his arm and through his shoulder for the last fifteen minutes.

He grimaced, more in disgust than pain, at the mark on his arm. It was testament to the stupidity of youth; it was a physical reminder to him that as far as he had run from it, and as much as he had been able to repent, his past would always haunt him. And now it was  calling him once more to a master he no longer was loyal to.

Voldemort, of course, had no idea of this. As far as the Dark Lord knew, Snape was a double agent for him. That it was Dumbledore that Severus was double crossing, not his dear dark master. It was, after all, the only way to continue as Dumbledore's spy, while at the same time giving an explanation for Dumbledore's public defense of Severus. And naturally, Dumbledore had no idea that Severus Snape had implemented such a plan until it was already in motion. At that, the older man was deeply aggrieved, though he had also found himself praising what his spy had gone and done without approval.

Severus sighed, no longer able to ignore the pain in his arm, and put away the paperwork he had been working on before being interrupted by children up far past their bed times. Closing one last drawer, he stood up and cast a security spell. He took his heaviest cloak off its hook by the office's door; wrapping it tightly around himself, he silently opened the door. He slipped through and locked with another security spell.

Rather than leave the school on foot, he apparated to his first destination- a special stable that Hagrid had built for him, just outside of the Forbidden Forest. It held Severus preferred mode of transportation when being called to the Dark Lord. He stole inside it quietly, as to not startle its occupant, a dark brown stead of no particular breeding. Severus had decided it was better to ride than to fly when Voldemort was located so far away that apparating would require several in between stops. He was not fond of apparating to places he was unfamiliar with; he preferred not taking the chance that he might suddenly appear amidst a crowd of muggles.

The horse whinnied softly as Severus secured the saddle to it'to its back. Patting his neck, he whispered to the stead.

"Let us go without a sound, Aiolos."

The horse snorted his reply. Aiolos was not found of silence, but Severus could see that he understood the meaning behind what he had been told. Severus mounted Aiolos almost effortlessly, and with a small kick, they were off; the open stable doors were closed with a flick of a wand.


	8. Facilis est Descensus Averni

A/N: Look, I'm updating! o_O And it's a really long update. x_x Hmm, I don't really have anything in particular to say, except that I know you people are out there. O_O Yes, you know who you are...

So, tell me, how hard is it press that little blue button? Hmm?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Seven: _Facilis est Descensus Averni_ (The descent to hell is easy)

Severus still had no idea where it was that Voldemort was, but at the same time had little trouble getting there. He silently cursed the wicked cleverness of the Dark mark that the Dark Lord had burned into his arm so many years ago. Who besides Voldemort himself would have thought of way to both brand his followers and lead them to him whenever he so wished?

It was night when he arrived, but even at the distance he was from it, he could tell Voldemort's camp was full of life. He slowed Aiolus as he neared it, as he had every intention of entering unseen by all but the Dark Lord himself. He couldn't hide from Voldemort; Voldemort could already see him- he'd almost certainly started watching Severus as soon as he'd left Hogwarts' grounds.

But, alas, he wasn't going to slip in unnoticed. Further ahead, he could see someone waiting on the side of the trail he was riding on. As he neared the stranger, he saw it was no stranger at all.

"Surely you have better things to do than wait for me," Severus sneered at him.

"Perhaps, but this is on Voldemort's orders," Dominic told him, ignoring his rudeness. "Not my whim."

"I see," Severus said quietly, as dismounted. Dominic took the reins from his hand, and began leading the horse.

"He wishes to speak with you as soon as you're settled in," Dominic told him mechanically, doing little more than repeating what he had been told. "I'll take Aiolus."

"Thank you," Severus replied stiffly.

Dominic didn't say anything, just nodded and began to lead the horse away. Before the boy was out of earshot, Snape added, "Oh, and before I forget-"he paused, making sure he had Dominic's attention. "I'd like you to keep an eye on the, er, children for me. And I should like you to contact Dumbledore for me." 

As soon as he had said that, a pain shot his arm, alerting him to his duties, that he must go to Voldemort's side at once. He swore, grabbing at his arm as he left Aiolus with the boy. Curses, but his arm was positively controlling him now. It wasn't far too where the Dark Lord himself was, just a bit up the path he had been on.

Voldemort had settled himself into a cabin that looked positively ancient to Severus. He was let inside with little trouble, but still escorted to the room Voldemort was in. The Dark lord looked relaxed, though his hand clutched at his wand reflexively when Severus entered.

"Ah... Severus," He spoke slowly. He waved Severus's escort away. "It's- been awhile, hasn't it."

"My Lord, you know I have my teaching duties," Severus said, trying not to sound irritated. "I came as soon as it was feasible."

"Did you really?" Voldemort inquired, sounding more insightful than Severus felt was safe. "Now, I'm not sure I believe that."

"My lord-"

"No, I'm certain that I don't," Voldemort said darkly, cutting him off. "You haven't even had the decency to send any reports my way."

"I simply haven't-" Severus took a deep breath to calm himself, "-Had the time, my Lord."

"I suppose having to deal with that-" Voldemort paused, picking his words carefully, "interesting Goddaughter of yours on top of teaching classes is quite the handful. I wonder," he gave Severus a malicious look before finishing. "How best we might use her?"

"My Lord, she has no handle on the powers that make her what she is," Severus was picking his words as carefully as he could. "I can't see what use she might be to you."

"You forget, Severus, that I always have a way," Voldemort told him, smiling almost gleefully. "With the proper control, her darkness could be tapped, almost-" he paused, "-indefinitely."

"My Lord-" Severus began.

"You will have her brought to me in three moons time, Severus," he continued. "Or you shall face some rather nasty consequences."

"My Lord, I must with no ill intent, ask you what use she could possibly be to you even under those conditions," Severus tried not to gag at the atrocious way he was begging at someone he could barely stand.

"That, Severus, would take more time to explain than I have for you," Voldemort told him simply. "All you need to know at this time is that she very important to me. More, I shall perhaps tell you when the time draws nigh to, shall we say, a "meeting" of the worlds."

"I do not understand, my Lord," Severus answered quietly. "But I shall no longer question you. I take my leave."

"You are wise to withdraw," Voldemort said approvingly. "Those have in the past made the mistake of pressing further have never lived to tell of it."

Severus did not reply, and his escorts led him out. Outside, a rumpled looking Dominic was waiting for him once more.

 "You again?"

"Don't act so surprised," the boy said flatly. "I sent your owl."

"Good. So what do you want with me now?" Severus asked grumpily.

"Look, if you don't want to know where you're to sleep, then I'll bugger off," Dominic snapped. "But don't go taking your bad business with him out on me."

--------------------

Lucinda was, naturally, the first one to learn that Professor Snape was missing. It had been a Thursday, the night he had left, and when she had missed her Godfather at breakfast the next day, she had gone done to his office to see why he had not shone up. She found an empty office, hastily locked (he hadn't even put any sort of magical guarding on it).

She hurried to Dumbledore's office as soon as she took note of the condition of Snape's office. She burst into Dumbledore's office without a thought of knocking. He looked up from a paper on his desk. "Yes Miss Black?" 

"Professor Snape is gone!" 

"Ah, yes so he is," Dumbledore said quietly, not a bit of surprise in his voice. "You see, sometimes there are things we must do, whether it is within our preferences to do so." 

She gave Dumbledore a blank look. "What does that mean?" 

"That means, Miss Black, that I will be teaching Potions until your godfather can return. Now run along to breakfast." 

She continued to stare at him blankly. Dumbledore stood up, walked around his desk, and took it into his own hands to physically escort her out. Numbly, Lucinda somehow found her way to the great hall. As she walked in, she watched an owl fly straight at Draco, and bounce off of his chest into his breakfast. 

Constance was giggling at the spectacle when Lucinda sat down next to her. Draco scowled at both and threw the owl at them in the hopes it might brain one or both of them. Constance caught it easily, tearing the letter from it beak before throwing it at a group of first years some way down the table.

"Well now," she muttered, reading it. "'S from Dominic. Amazingly, it isn't for me. It's addressed to you, Draco."

She tossed the letter to Draco, who just stared at her. Upon reading it, it was clear why Dominic had chosen to contact Draco rather than the girls.

"What's it say?" Lucinda asked eagerly. "Eh? Eh?"

"Bugger off," he told her crossly. "When were you given the right to read my mail?"

"We always share with you," she said, pouting.

"Look, its not your business, got it?" Draco said in a huff. Standing up, he added, "See you in potions."

He stormed out of the entrance hall, desperately wishing he didn't have to go to potions that day. After much pacing around the halls, and much mumbling to himself, Draco grudgingly dragged himself into his potions classroom. Expecting to be empty, as he was a full twenty minutes early, he was more than a little startled to find Dumbledore moving around the dungeon busily, whistling to himself.

He scowled. Dumbledore heard his bag hit his table as he threw it down before settling himself on his stool.

 "Ah, young Mister Malfoy, what brings you to class so early," Dumbledore asked, hardly looking up from what he was doing.

"I, uh," Draco began, not entirely sure how to approach the headmaster. Then, a bit more arrogant than was probably appropriate, he added, "What's it to you?"

"Oh, I was simply curious, as I know your reputation for being late most of the time to your classes, and barely on time the rest," Dumbledore told him effortlessly. "I will let the bad mood slide this once, as anyone in your present position is not likely to be in the best of moods," he added.

"You know?" Draco asked, incredulously. "I thought only Snape-"

"What those under me know, I know," Dumbledore told him, turning to look him in the eye. "Mister Malfoy, do not, under any circumstances, underestimate me." Looking away, he added, "I had hoped that you might be able to open your mind where Lucius had been unable to. It seems I may have been wrong, at least partially."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, offended.

"It means, that I have seen you rejected bits of what your father taught to you," Dumbledore replied. "But you have a very long road ahead of you. You are far from overcoming what he intended you to do."

"Who said I was trying to overcome his legacy? I intend to honor my name, professor," Draco said quietly. "I have no intention of helping you, as I know that is what you want."

"Ah, but you misunderstand me once again, child," Dumbledore turned to look at Draco once more. He continued, a twinkle of sorts passing over his eyes, "However, I am certain that if I told you what it is I am hoping you will try to do just the opposite."

Before Draco could think of a snide remark to counter the old man with, there was a loud clatter outside the dungeon doors, followed by several banging noises. Dumbledore swished towards the door, evidently more concerned with the noise than with Draco.

A few minutes later, a ruffled looking Lucinda came trotting into the dungeon, followed by Hermione Granger, Harry Potter with Dumbledore trailing behind.

"See? I told you she was just perfectly horrible!" He heard Hermione exclaim, as the two Gryffindors took their seats. 

Draco was a bit surprised to see Harry; Potter wasn't supposed to be in his potions class. Actually, from what Draco knew, Harry had been pulled out of all of his classes; he was instead taking them privately due to what were described as "personal matters". Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Are you curious, Mister Malfoy, as to why Harry is joining us today?" Dumbledore had resumed his position near Draco. Draco nearly fell out of chair; Dumbledore had been so quiet he hadn't noticed him.

"I- ah- yes," was all he could manage to get out.

Dumbledore smiled an odd sort smile, but all he said was, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait to get an answer to that."

Draco scowled, but was relieved when Dumbledore glided away. He was not alone for long, however; Lucinda plopped herself down on the stool next to his.

"What do you want?"

"Well, it seems my partner has been co-opted," she said brightly. "So you'll have to do, hm?"

 "I- What?!" Draco looked at her in shock.

She giggled. He scowled again, and said nothing. The rest of the class filed in, trying their best not to send odd looks towards the disgruntled pair; Draco found himself wishing he had chosen to sit in the back of the room, as he was not looking 

forward to twenty pairs of eyeballs digging their way into the back of his skull.

Of course, as soon as the class noticed who was teaching them, they soon forgot about the spectacle they had seemingly witnessed atop the dungeon's staircase.

"Class," Dumbledore began, cheerfully. "I must regretfully inform you that as sure I am that you are dreadfully fond of your Potions master-" he paused, taking in the contorted faces of those trying not to laugh. "-I am going to be taking his place while he is away."

Hermione's hand shot up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Where's Professor Snape gone to?" She asked, sounding altogether too happy about his missing status.

"I deeply apologize, Miss Granger, but I cannot tell you," he replied, speaking not just to her, but to the class as a whole. "Moving along, then. Did professor Snape say anything about what he was planning for your next assignment?"

Hermione's hand shot up again. At that moment, Draco desperately wanted to smack her. Dumbledore looked to her, as if to give her the go ahead.

"I believe he said we were going to start working on healing potions," she said. "I think he said the first would be Wound Cleaning."

"Hmm, well," Dumbledore smiled. "That sounds about right, for a N.E.W.T. class. Let us begin."

After some digging in Snape's desk, Dumbledore extracted the roll of parchment that listed the ingredients for the potion, and wrote them on the board. The class set to work, students scurrying here or there looking for ingredients, while others got out their cauldrons.

Draco was beginning to think he might not run into any problems during that class, as he added the second to last of his ingredients. As he was lazily stirring the cauldron, Lucinda's boredom got the better of her and she lit a small flame under his cauldron from her wand.

"What are you doing?!" Draco shrieked at her. Pointing to the directions on the boards, he continued, "Where do you see 'simmer on low flame' in those directions?"

"I don't," she said, shrugging. "Does it matter?"

"Does it-" he stopped himself, realizing that she knew exactly what she had done. He extinguished the flame, and was preparing to dispose of the ruined potion when something truly weird happened.

A small fluffy thing with wings popped out of his cauldron. His eyes got big and he nearly fell off his stool. Lucinda, however, seemed delighted. Pushing Draco out of the way, she stepped directly in front of the cauldron, where, to Draco's horror, she spoke to it.

_"ξǔįđ ήǔής?"_

He blinked. Before he could ask her what was going on, the thing responded.

_"Ђǔής ţǔ ςǻΰĕţ ήή łįĕţ," _it said, speaking –at least, Draco assumed it was speaking- in the same bizarre tongue that Lucinda had.

_"ξǔđ Ђς įį ΰǔłţ?," _Lucinda asked, shaking her head and looking thoroughly disgruntled. She took a swing at it with her left hand. It dodged and spoke again.

_"ήĕς ςįωĕ ƒǻß ĕţ πήįǻ."_

She took another swing at it, but it vanished back into the cauldron before her fist connected.

"What," Draco began. "Was that?"

"That," Lucinda said, calming down. "Was a servant of my Grandfather's."

"Your Grandfather's-?"

"The Incubus."

Draco stared at her, obviously not comprehending what she was trying to get across. She rolled her eyes, took a deep breath, and began elaborating.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Gee, I don't know-" he said, angrily. "Let's start with "what the hell was that?!""

"Well, geez, you don't have to get all upset," she said frowning. "His name is Mookie. My Grandfather said he was a 'Pilovicus'. 'Pilovicus _minor_'."

"Minor?"

"Yeah. I suppose that might mean there's a major? Well, anyways," she continued, as Draco stared at her, his eyes enlarged in fear. "He just came to give me a message."

"I gathered that," Draco said, in annoyance. "But I don't very well know what he was telling you, do I?"

"Ooh, yeah, I guess you don't speak Demon," she said, nonchalantly.

"Demon?" He asked dispassionately. Then, comprehending, he continued, "Demon? Just what the hell-?"

"Well, I if my Grandfather is a demon, he would speak their tongue, wouldn't?" She asked, clearly not amused. "And would you talk quieter?"

"Why should I?" He hissed. He turned his head away from her, and defeatedly asked, "Well, what did he want?"

"Oh, I think my Grandfather wants me to stay away from you," she said simply, shrugging. Cocking her head to the side, she added, "or maybe he was talking about Voldemort?"

Draco stared at her, exasperated. His mood quickly changed when he noticed a shadow spilling over them from behind accompanied by a soft rapping noise. Draco turned to see Dumbledore standing behind them, his foot tapping against the floor rather violently.

"Miss Black, now is not the time nor the place for 'visits' from your relatives." He said, blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh but I'm not related to Mookie. He's just a messenger." She said dismissively.  

Dumbledore sighed, extending a long finger to the bridge of his spectacles, pushing them up his nose. "What am I do to with you child?"

Lucinda blinked up at him, "I don't know. Uncle Sev doesn't seem to know either." 

Dumbledore sighed again, his hand returning to somewhere in his robes.  "Class was dismissed, and as you can see, the rest of the class left some time ago. You may leave, if you like."

"Okay." Lucinda nodded, now noticing how empty the room had become. "I think that I'll head back to the common room and write my grandfather a letter."

"That would be wise Miss Black. And Draco?" Dumbledore said, turning to where Draco had been.

Draco, however, was closing in on the door; he at once felt his hopes crushed and himself trapped once more with Lucinda. 

"Yes?" Draco squeaked.

"I would advise you to forget this ever happened."

"That could be rather difficult," Draco said coolly. Although he personally agreed with Dumbledore- what was the world coming to? Sending a dirty look at the two, he then trudged out of the room. Lucinda scurried after him without giving Dumbledore a backward glance. 

Dumbledore paused to look into the cauldron; even he couldn't quite grasp what events were about to unfold.


End file.
